Many people I meet admit they've always wanted to write a book, but for whatever reason haven't yet made it a reality.
Some try to strong arm me to do it for them. When I explain (as politely as possible) I have more story ideas than I will ever use and that only they can truly write their story, the excuses begin.
Ultimately, it boils down to one thing. The passage of time.
"Isn't it too late?" they ask.
Susan Boyle is the reigning queen of late bloomers. She promised her mother to follow her dream and found the strength to walk across that stage.
She ignored the giggles and snickers and catty comments about her dowdy hair and matronly attire. And when she opened her mouth and belted out a song that brought tears to eyes around the world, she became an overnight sensation.
There's nothing shabby about being a late bloomer.
The release of my debut novel took place the same year I turned 60. (If you do the math, that makes me eleven years older than Susan who was 48 when she appeared as a contestant on Britain's Got Talent.) But that's hardly newsworthy. Many authors get published FOR THE FIRST TIME in their 80s and 90s.
Poet Sharon Old said it best. “I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.”
Amen to that.
Are you or anyone you know a late bloomer? Please, tell us about those accomplishments. Leave a comment, and a dozen cyber red roses are yours. Come on. Be blooming brilliant!
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